


Pen to Paper

by Owlship



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Furiosa Adopts the Sisters, I Blame Tumblr, Kid Fic, Max Has A Dog, Max Writes Children's Books, One day I will stop writing kid fics I swear, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 09:34:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4914340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owlship/pseuds/Owlship
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“you’re an author of children books and my kid is in love with everything you’ve written so when you come into town for a reading I thought it’d be fun to take my kid to hear you. only you are not at all what I expected and for a moment i’m worried that we’re not at the right place, but then you start reading with animated eyes and an engagingly kind voice and aha, ha ha oh no. I’m so fucked" au</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pen to Paper

**Author's Note:**

> I foolishly thought that the Petshop AU was the fluffiest thing I could write. But I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. Tumblr is a dangerous place and I blame everyone there who enables me.
> 
> Prompt from [this list](http://v8roadworrier.tumblr.com/post/130218620476/not-another-list-of-aus)

Furiosa wasn't sure what to expect from the book reading. Hearing the author of the “Detective Dog” series read from their latest book, “Detective Dog and the Case of the Lost Lizard,” was the sort of event she wouldn't have been caught dead at a few years ago. But that was before she'd found and adopted her daughters- the way her life was now, as soon she saw the ad in the paper she'd marked it down onto the calendar, before the girls even had a chance to whine about wanting to go.

Angharad and Capable had been too old when the series started to be interested, but the others- even Toast- devoured them eagerly. There was no telling what the author was like, since there wasn't any information in the books themselves nor on the publisher's website. Furiosa wasn't even sure whether they were male or female, since their pen name was just the initials “M.M.” Regardless of the author's identity the books themselves were well written, in addition to handling some fairly dark subject matter without becoming preachy, and it was worth setting aside an afternoon.

The bookstore the reading was taking place in wasn't particularly busy, only a few families crowded into the rickety folding chairs. There was a much nicer chair set up in the front, facing the audience, that was presumably where the author would be sitting. Whenever they showed up that was, because- Furiosa again checked the time on her phone- they were now five minutes late to the start of their own book reading.

Besides her Cheedo squirmed in her seat unhappily, too young to be patient for much longer, while Dag looked supremely bored by it all. Being at the upper age range for this book series Toast just crossed her arms, face surly, and muttered something about not wanting to wait around for a dumb baby's book, anyway.

It was looking like she might have to pull out something to entertain them with, or else reconsider waiting at all, when Cheedo suddenly pointed off to the side and called out excitedly, “Detective Dog!”

The dog that rounded the corner was indeed the same type as the one from the books, down to the markings and red bandana around its neck. A coincidence, surely, because the man who held the dog's leash was about as far from Furiosa's mental image of the reclusive author as possible.

With no information about them available she had always pictured an aging spinster, the sort who might fit in with her own eclectic family, or else that vaguely doughy type that male teachers tended towards. This man was still fairly young, rough around the edges like he might have slept in his car within the last week, and seemed a bit confused by the crowd of youngsters and parents he'd stumbled across.

Furiosa waited for him to wander back out, wondering where the author was and if it was worth waiting much longer. The dog barked, tail wagging, and with a sinking feeling she realized that the man hadn't turned back around but was indeed headed straight for the speaker's chair.

“It's Dog, mommy,” Cheedo whispered to her, and she mustered up a smile for the girl, one wary eye on the man.

“Hello,” he said once he'd sat down, voice a little raspy like he wasn't particularly used to speaking. “I'm Max, and this is Dog.”

The children in the audience chorused out a greeting, and though Furiosa was still leery a good number of the other parents seemed to lean forward eagerly. The man- Max, apparently- gave an awkward smile and a half-wave, before reaching into a satchel to pull out a copy of “Detective Dog.”

“I usually just write down his stories, but Dog's asked me to speak for him today,” he said. “I hope that's alright.”

At his side the dog barked again, tongue lolling out of his mouth, which caused the children to giggle. Most of them were probably old enough to realize that his dog wouldn't be able to speak like the narrator of the books, but it was a surprisingly thoughtful touch for the younger ones.

Furiosa's expectations were fairly low. The books themselves were cleverly written, but just from the few minutes she'd had to assess the author, she assumed that the already-published words and cute pictures would do most of the heavy lifting.

Which is why it was such a shock that Max dove into reading from the book with enthusiasm, contorting his face and altering his voice for each character, his expansive gestures somehow bringing across dimensions to the sparse text she was sure hadn't been there before.

It wasn't Shakespeare, but it was inexplicably captivating all the same. The children were certainly spellbound, reacting to hearing the story read aloud with outbursts of cheering or gasps at different points. When he finished the last page the man looked as if he was coming out of a trance, emotions sliding away to a sort of bewildered expression, like he wasn't quite sure why the children in front of him were clapping delightedly.

“Thank you,” Max said, voice back down to what Furiosa assumed was its usual register. His dog barked once more, then bowed low on his front legs, ears flouncing as he bounced back up. “Dog says 'thank you,' also.”

“Mom, mom, can we go and see Dog?” Dag asked, leaning over her sister to tug at Furiosa's sleeve. Cheedo said nothing but clasped her hands together in a pleading gesture, and even Toast looked interested.

There was already a pile-up of families wanting to talk to the man and his dog, but it wasn't as if there was any reason not to join them. The author seemed more awkward than potentially dangerous, and hadn't set off any of Furiosa's carefully-honed alarms despite the unfavorable first impression.

“Alright,” she replied, and the youngest clambered out of their chairs immediately to rush over. Toast hesitated, looking as if she wanted to say something, and Furiosa gave her an encouraging smile. “Didn't you have something you wanted to talk to him about?”

“He'll think it's dumb,” Toast said, scuffing her shoe along the cheap carpeting.

“Of course he won't,” Furiosa replied. If nothing else, it seemed a safe bet that any author would be pleased to talk about writing with one of their fans. The night before Toast had even printed out and bound up a copy of her best work for him to have, if he was willing, and Furiosa took it out of her purse now. “Would you like me to do the talking?”

The indecision was plain to see on Toast's face, but after a moment the girl shook her head. “I can do it,” she said, and took the booklet before she hopped out of the chair.

Cheedo and Dag were hanging back from the small crowd, bouncing eagerly in place as they waited for their turn to meet Dog but knowing better than to leave her sight. Toast gripped her prosthetic hand as they walked over, the touch lost but for a gentle tugging sensation.

“Can we wait 'till they're gone?” she asked, and Furiosa nodded easily. She had expected the girl would feel more comfortable without an audience, and didn't particularly mind waiting around. It helped her patience that the view wasn't the worst she'd been subjected to, all told.

Max was perched on the edge of the chair, more-or-less eye level with the children around him, and was solemnly listening to each of their questions and rambling stories. He pulled out little anecdotes for answers, sometimes mimicking the character's voices the way he had as he read, but managed to not fall into the overly-pitched voice or cutesy language adults so often adopted around small children.

One boy asked why Dog's bandana wasn't blue, and Max only nodded gravely as if it was of the utmost importance.

“Reminds him of the roses- red roses- in his Ma's backyard,” he replied, “back when he was a pup.”

“How come his name's Dog? It's dumb,” one of the older children said meanly, bored and clearly dragged along by a younger sibling.

“That's what he asked me to call him,” Max said. There was a bit of giggling, but the kid who had asked the question looked unimpressed.

“I thought you'd be a girl,” another child said, sounding disappointed.

Max ducked his head and shrugged, “Sorry.”

“I like him as a man just fine,” one of the parents whispered to the woman standing next to her, loudly enough for Furiosa to overhear. Loud enough that it caught Max's attention as well, by the way his head jerked to their direction.

“Mhmm,” her companion drawled in reply, gazing at the author with exaggerated interest. Or, at least, what Furiosa hoped was an exaggeration. It was true that the man was fairly attractive, and watching him interact with the gathered children in such a kind and engaging manner was oddly compelling, but it was just in poor taste to leer at someone in earnest during a kid's event.

His gaze skittered uneasily between the two women before landing on Furiosa, and she offered up a wry smile of commiseration that had him darting back to focus his attention on the dwindling group of children. The smile fell off her face, and she wondered what aspect of her appearance it was this time that had scared him off, since she hadn't even had the chance to strike up an argument with him yet.

The crowd thinned enough that Dag and Cheedo got their turn petting the dog, who looked blissed-out under all the attention. Max had to direct some of the children to be gentler, but Furiosa was pleased to see that her daughters, at least, were behaving themselves.

The woman who had commented earlier held out a book for him to sign, but seemed convinced that asking for him to add his phone number to the inscription was an acceptable request. The man looked more confused than ever, grumbled something about communicating through his publisher's office. Furiosa was close enough by now with most everyone gone to see that he'd drawn a cute doodle of Dog alongside the dedication for the child whose book it was, regardless of the mother's behavior.

“Mom, did you hear what he said about the lizards?” Dag asked when she peeled away from Dog, and despite not having paid much attention at all Furiosa knew to nod as if she had. She'd probably be told any stories over and over again in the coming days, anyway.

The woman stubbornly tried flirting for several more minutes, eventually giving it up when Max stopped responding with words at all, looking rather hunted and trapped. He breathed out a sigh of relief once she'd walked away before noticing Furiosa still standing nearby, Toast clinging to her arm, and straightened in his chair again.

Toast jerked her hand away and marched determinedly up to Max, thrust the booklet practically straight into his face.

“Here,” she said, “I wrote this, and I want- I thought if maybe- could you read it? I want to write, too.”

As Toast stumbled over her words her resolve wavered, until she looked as if she wanted to shrink back and hide behind Furiosa's legs like Cheedo sometimes still did. The arm holding her bundle of paper shook and she started to pull it back, face blushed deep red.

“Of course,” Max said once he'd recovered from the suddenness of it, and carefully took the booklet from her with a soft smile. He flipped it open to start reading immediately, which was not what Furiosa had anticipated. She had expected him to maybe share a few platitudes about writing, take the booklet with him and then if he remembered write a short letter sometime later.

As he read, Angharad appeared out from one of the aisles, some book whose title Furiosa couldn't make out in hand. “Oh, you are still over here,” she said, taking in the scene with apparent disinterest. “Can Capable and I get something from the cafe?”

Furiosa gave it a moment's thought, decided it was as good an excuse as any to stop taking up the author's time.

“We'll all go,” she replied. "This is good," Max said at the same moment, lifting his head from the booklet's pages.

Toast broke out into a huge relieved smile, “You think so?”

He nodded and made a wordless humming noise, then darted a glance at Furiosa. “I'm sure you're busy,” he started to say, but was cut off by Angharad.

“Why don't you come sit with us?” she offered, “Toast's been working on that for ages, she'd love to talk with you about it. Unless you have to leave, that is.”

Toast's blush returned, painting her cheeks even darker than before, while Dag and Cheedo stood up from besides Dog, suddenly interested in the conversation. Max looked surprised by the invitation, a feeling Furiosa was unfortunately familiar with. The younger girls were still easy enough to handle, but when Angharad in particular asserted herself, as she had started to do more and more lately, it was always a bit like being blindsided.

“It's alright,” Furiosa said, “We won't keep you.” The man seemed ill at ease with company in general, not to mention whatever it was about herself that had put him off earlier, and she didn't want to subject him to more socialization than he could handle. Offering a graceful way out was the least she could do.

He looked around the small crowd her family represented, then down at where his dog sat patiently next to his chair. “Okay,” he said after a moment, “Dog needs water anyhow.”

Which was how Furiosa found herself in the cafe of a bookstore, listening to a published author (albeit 'only' of illustrated children's books) talk to Toast about her own writing. Angharad and Capable claimed an adjacent table, absorbed in conversation with some friends from school that they had run into.

Though he was spare with his words, Max did a surprisingly deft job of walking the fine line of encouraging a child's talents while not completely ignoring the areas she could improve on. Toast lapped the attention up with a fervor that surprised Furiosa, who hadn't realized just how serious she apparently was about writing. She wondered with a twist of guilt if it was her own fault for not noticing, for all that the girl had already proved adamant about keeping some things close to the vest.

“What started you writing?” Furiosa asked Max during a lull in the conversation.

“Ah,” he started, and she could as good as see him deciding how honest to be. “I was a cop."

“Like Dog?” Cheedo piped up, and he nodded with a smile at her before turning back to Furiosa.

“Friend's kid liked hearing some of the stories,” Max continued. “Wrote them down for him, and,” he paused to shrug his shoulders, “it just happened. Found I liked it.”

She nodded, took a sip from her mug. “Are you still on the force?”

He froze for a split second, then shook his head. “No, I uh, got hurt. My leg.” He made some sort of vague gesture as if she could see his legs through the table, then shrugged again. “Desk duty or retirement.”

It was a more honest answer than she had been anticipating, and she was thrown by it for a second.

“And you're not good with paperwork?” Furiosa asked lightly, easily guessing that it was a sensitive subject. She was used to strangers either asking intrusive questions about her own missing arm or else contorting themselves to avoid so much as glancing at it, so she understood the unspoken desire to acknowledge and move on.

Max huffed out a laugh in response, shook his head. “Always missed my deadlines,” he said with a slight smile.

She made an understanding noise in return, let the conversation idle while she drained the last of her coffee. Then Dag asked whether he'd ever shot someone and, well, it seemed like a decent cue to wrap things up.

“Dag, you know better,” Furiosa admonished, and passed to her the stack of emptied plates and mugs they'd built up. “For that, you get to bring these back to the counter.”

Dag scowled but complied, stomping away from the table.

Furiosa turned back to Max, “We should get going, but it was nice to meet you. Thank you for taking the time to talk with Toast.”

He nodded, and mumbled something that she didn't catch because Cheedo tugged at her sleeve, demanding attention.

“I want his autograph,” she said quietly when Furiosa turned to her, apparently feeling too shy to ask for herself.

“We didn't bring a copy of the book,” Furiosa reminded her, and planned to suggest that she run and grab one off the shelves to be rung up. Buying a second copy was a worthwhile expense considering how well meeting the author had gone.

“I can,” Max started, evidently having overheard, and pulled the copy he'd read from earlier out of his satchel. “Bit beat up,” he said with an apologetic twist to his mouth.

But Cheedo's eyes had gone wide, and Toast looked equally thrilled. “Your own book?” she asked.

“We can swap,” he replied with a nod, “Sign yours for me?”

He passed her printed booklet back over to Toast along with a pen, and Furiosa didn't know if she'd ever seen her middle child look so delighted. She signed it with a flourish, putting her newly-perfected cursive skills to good use.

While she was writing Max wrote up a message inside the cover of his own book, along with what looked like another sketch of Dog, this one accompanied by the titular lizard.

“Our address is in the back,” Toast said when she returned the booklet, blushing again, “In case- I'd really like if you wrote to me. So, you can. If you want.”

He hummed wordlessly in reply, flipped to the last page to see the address and taped-in stamp Furiosa had suggested they include, before she had any idea the author would actually read the story right then and there.

“I'm only a town over,” he said, and lifted his eyes from the page to look at Furiosa questioningly. “I could, if it's okay, meet up? Library's good for writing.”

“No way, really?” Toast said, “That would be so cool!”

“We'll see,” Furiosa said. The idea of Toast having a sort of a mentor was certainly worthwhile, but they'd literally met the man an hour ago.

Max nodded understandingly, patted his leg to get his dog's attention before standing. “I'll write,” he said to Toast, and she grinned, pleased. “Nice meeting you,” he directed to Furiosa, and extended his hand towards her.

She assumed it was for a handshake, as oddly formal as the gesture seemed, so she was surprised when he passed a folded napkin to her as she clasped their hands. She accepted it reflexively, used to her daughters handing off trinkets or bits of rubbish. He pulled away and waved, and then strolled out of the store, Dog following on his heels. He did have a bit of a limp she noted distantly, before turning to the paper in her hand.

The napkin, when unfolded, revealed a string of digits that could only be a phone number, along with a cute and rather hopeful-looking doodle of Dog, question mark floating over his head. She stared at it for a moment, wondering if she was interpreting the meaning of it right but unable to come up with an alternative.

  
  
Dog! By [Spizacki](http://spizacki.tumblr.com)  


“Woah, nice,” Capable said from over her shoulder, grinned unrepentantly when Furiosa turned to shoot her a reproving look. “Hey Angharad, check this out. Mom's got game!”

The car ride home was going to be particularly long, she predicted with a touch of resigned despair. Furiosa tucked the napkin into her pocket anyway, because it wasn't every day that handsome men who were neither scared off by her children nor her appearance showed an interest, and it might be nice to talk to him again, maybe. The girls would undoubtedly tease her about it mercilessly at this point anyway, whether she binned the note or not, so there wasn't much to be gained by pretending she wasn't intrigued.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Mightier Than The Sword](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11686896) by [palimpsestus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/palimpsestus/pseuds/palimpsestus)




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